LMNOP

Against, considerable odds, there is a new baby panda cub in DC as of last night. Per WaPo:

The National Zoo’s female giant panda gave birth to a cub Sunday night, stunning and delighting zoo officials and sparking a new wave of panda mania in Washington seven years after the zoo’s only other cub was born in 2005.

The cub was born at 10:46 p.m. to Mei Xiang, the zoo said, and curator Becky Malinsky happened to be watching the 24-hour-a-day panda camera feed and heard the first squealing of the newborn.

Mei Xiang is just as suprised as you are.

In celebration/appreciation, a few panda links are most certainly in order. First off, here is some previous LMNOPanda coverage:

• Try Getting THESE Guys to Breed (featuring binder clip pandas)
• He Also Hates Ice Cream, Pizza, and Warm Woolen Mittens (on that guy who claims pandas should be allowed to go extinct)

Elsewhere:

• The zoo's footage of the birth. Don't get too excited; it's mostly just Mei Xiang kind of shifting around in her nest. Panda birth is apparently shrouded in as much mystery as panda pregnancy.
• Washingtonian's roundup of YouTube's best panda vids. Many classics here.
• National Zoo PandaCam. (Word to the un-wise, like me: it took me way too embarrassingly long to figure out that you have to X out the newsletter subscription box to see the cam. Telling you so you can get your panda fix faster than I did.)

P.S.: The giant panda cub's birth came just one day after International Red Panda Day, meaning the butter-stick sized baby already has at least one epic upstage under his belt.

Last night I tweeted this pic of the newly-announced US 2012 Summer Olympic Opening Ceremony outfits by Ralph Lauren:

Since several fellow Olympic enthusiasts/ankle sock non-enthusiasts tweeted me back immediately with comments on its ability to somehow be both dictator AND flight attendant in inspiration, I am following up with a bit more info/some thoughts.

So if you're a huge Olympics fan and have an extra $1,572 lying around, know what you should do?

YOU SHOULD GO TO THE OLYMPICS.

AND NOT BUY THIS OUTFIT.

In conclusion: still love the Olympics. Still love America. Still hate berets and ankle socks. World: keep turning.

Like the Oscars, Grammys, or a BOGO sale on Triscuits, the annual World's Ugliest Dog competition is one of those things I consider to be this blog's journalistic wheelhouse. So when I saw this picture of the 2012 winner, Mugly, I GOT HERE AS FAST AS I COULD.

Soooo . . . THIS GUY. First off, Mugly is a great name. The British/Union Jack theme is first class and, with the coming London Olympics, extremely timely. I think what really wins me over in this pic is his ramrod posture and stoic facial expression. He's a little soldier of ugly. And this fight is totes worth fighting.

Here is a shot of the little guy's amazing facial hair. We call this style 'the broken tennis racket:'

Overall, on my comprehensive ranking of ugly dogs, I would probably put him between Nana and Rascal.

Here are a few pics of some of Mugly's competition:

1. This is clearly just a human t-shirt withan extra hole cut in the middle.
2. My dog and my roommate's dog have NO idea of the consequences of me seeing this picture. But they will. Soon.

I would believe you if you told me those sausage links were actually coming out of this dog as yet another of his deformities. (P.S.: Yes, eagle eye, that is former winner RASCAL)

This dog was confused and thought it was an Adrien Brody lookalike contest. 

Well, I happen to think this lil guy is adorable. Which makes him a TERRIBLE COMPETITOR! 

Grovie the pug has seen some things. Like a mirror. (JK he's adorableeee)

Note: @DaveG34 and I have agreed to debate the merits of the movie Armageddon. Background info is here. The statement up for debate today is, simply: "Armageddon is a good movie." I represent the PRO side; Dave represents CON. My opening statement is below; Dave's is here.

IF YOU THINK ARMAGEDDON IS A BAD MOVIE, YOU OBVIOUSLY HAVE SPACE DEMENTIA

By Lauren McILoveThisMovie,Man

In defending the movie Armageddon, one finds more than her fair share of opponents. Roger Ebert gave the movie one star, calling it "an assault on the eyes, the ears, the brain, common sense and the human desire to be entertained." Countless other reviewers shared his assessment, piling on critiques of its acting, writing, and pacing--not to mention gaping holes in scientific reasoning that you could, I dunno, fit a Texas-sized asteroid through.

Today, I stand up to those critics, and to my debate opponent Dave, to say that Armageddon is indeed a good movie. Now, defending Armageddon is no easy task--but then again, neither is AWESOMELY DRILLING A HOLE IN AN ASTEROID AND SAVING THE WORLD. But that didn't stop Harry Stamper, A.J. Frost, and their lovable band of blue-collar drillers-cum-NASA world-saver-ologists. So it won't stop me, either--because I LIKE this movie, dammit. And you can be all Bruce Willis and tell me not to like it because it's not good enough for your daughter, but at the end of the day I'm still going to go lie by a barn with this movie and let it traipse animal crackers over me while talking to me in a bad Australian accent, because I see the goodness of this movie even if you don't. And hopefully, much like in the movie, you will come to see my viewpoint in the end, just like Harry warmed to A.J. (Hopefully you will NOT be nuclear bombed/obliterated upon coming to this realization.)

The crux of my argument for this movie is thus: you can't deny how unbelievably thrilling and moving it is, even with all its little flaws. See, what its discreditors fail to appreciate is that Armageddon achieves the very height of cinematic drama and suspense by brilliantly combining several of the most compelling themes ever to appeal to human nature into one riveting tale. 

Since our earliest beginnings, mankind has been fascinated with the concept of how our world will end. On a grand scale, the movie touches on this mesmerizing concept of armageddon, and combines it with yet another eternally enthralling concept: man's struggle to use his wits to defeat the relentless forces of nature. Few things strike our collective conscious so profoundly as teamwork, whether it is in the larger struggle of humanity as it marshals whatever technology and progress it has at hand to defeat the natural forces that would destroy it without a care or thought--or in the microcosmic setting of a few regular Joes banding together under a gruff but determined leader to achieve success in a daunting, near-impossible task. The layering of these themes within Armageddon rouses fear, pathos, pride, and good ole-fashioned patriotism. Add to that the human angle--a romance blooming in a time of impossibility; a father guided by love for his daughter and hope for her future--and BAM, YOU JUST GOT GOOD MOVIE-D IN THE FACE. The dynamics between Grace (Liv Tyler) and Harry (Bruce Willis), Grace and A.J. (Ben Affleck), and Harry and A.J. make the urgency of the crew's doomsday mission that much more palpable by focusing our attention on a trio for whom everything is at stake. I don't care who you are, that's just good-ass storytelling.

*THIS PHOTO MAKES ME FEEL ACTUAL

Armageddon has its awkward moments--my defense would be incomplete if I didn't acknowledge them head on. For example, the science is admittedly preposterous. The movie's Wikipedia page has an entire section entitled "Scientific Inaccuracies," which notes: "NASA shows the film as part of its management training program. Prospective managers are asked to find as many inaccuracies in the movie as they can. At least 168 impossible things have been found during these screenings of the film." Fair enough. But I have to ask--need the science hold together for a movie to be good? I'm pretty sure a lot of the shit in Harry Potter wouldn't hold up in a NASA training room either, but people seem to like that.

"SO, TO RECAP, I SHOULD JUST USE MY QUIDDITCH SHOVEL AND GRAB THE MAGIC BEAN OR WHATEVER FROM THE MOON AND NOT HIT ANY VOLDEMORTS, RIGHT? COOL YEAH SEND ME UP"

Maybe that's not enough to convince the real science sticklers out there, but try taking the words of Susan Sontag into account. In her essay "The Imagination of Disaster," Sontag writes that "Science fiction films are not about science. They are about disaster, which is one of the oldest subjects of art...to this day there is nothing like the thrill of watching all those expensive sets come tumbling down." Fucking exxxxxactly, Susan, THANK YOU. I took science class to learn science. I'm watching Armageddon on FX at 11 p.m. on a Monday because shit's blowin' up and it's awesome.

Ehhh, the dialogue in the movie is, uh, occasionally . . . thin. I'll just give you that one. But allow me to point out that Armageddon was the highest-grossing movie of 1998. Why? Because people liked it. WHY? Because we can't all be the NASA scientists in the movie who know the best way to do everything and be right. (Those guys were nerds and lame anyway, as a matter of fact.) As the movie points out, sometimes perfection isn't what you need to get the job done. Sometimes you need the rag-tag team of not-good-enough elements to magically come together in literally world-saving Gestalt. Maybe that's what's going on with this script--did you ever stop to think of that? DID YOU?

It is my ultimate position, then, with regards to the topic of this debate, that no, Armageddon is not a good movie; it is a great one. My thoughts about it can, in fact, be summarized with pretty much all of the lyrics to its signature song, Aerosmith's "I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing." Every moment spent with this movie is a moment I treasure, and when it's on I don't wanna miss a thing. And I totally don't feel weird about calling a movie baby and saying I want to listen to it breathing, because people, according to the transitive property of movie-song logic, Steven Tyler was basically singing that song about his daughter. So I'm the more normal one here.

Note: @DaveG34 and I have agreed to debate the merits of the movie Armageddon. Background info is here. The statement up for debate today is, simply: "Armageddon is a good movie." I represent the PRO side; Dave represents CON. Dave's opening statement is below; mine is here.

ARMAGEDDON'T

By @DaveG34 

To those of you unfamiliar with pork products, Scrapple is created when you take all the tasty, useful parts out of a pig and then throw the rest into a blender, turn it on, and heat the result. Armageddon is the Scrapple of cinema. It takes a bunch of random, totally ridiculous, unexplainable events and throws them together into an action movie. If network executives were being honest with audiences in 1998, they would have named this film “A Serial Happening of Inexplicable Things.” Or, well, SHIT.

SHIT begins in a way only acceptable in a pre-9/11 world, as meteors shower down on New York City, destroying buildings, cars, and human life. The focus, however, remains on the health and well-being of a dog named Little Richard. Priorities, it turns out, are not Michael Bay’s forte. Next, we visit an oil rig¹, where Bruce Willis shoots Ben Affleck - with a gun! – and no one seems remotely surprised. Like, oh yeah, this is our friend Harry - he just randomly shoots people with guns. Question: Harry appears most likely to belong to which of the following: a) a world-saving NASA mission, b) Rahway State Prison, or c) J-Date. If you guessed B, you're right. Also, surprisingly, C.

Then there's the whole "rest of the movie,” wherein our heroes become astronauts, land on an asteroid, drill through an undrillthroughable material, and save the day. Meanwhile, the President of the United States is somehow willing to blow up the asteroid prematurely, despite knowing that as a result, EVERYONE IN THE WORLD WILL DIE. This seems mildly irresponsible, doesn’t it?² But fear not: Harry Stamper, the J-dating Affleck-shooter, has more power in this movie than the President, and he of course saves the day. Another example of crazy-ass shit happening is when Ben Affleck drives a space vehicle over a massive, miles-wide chasm. Really, the film takes on a whole new life if you just watch it as one really long deleted scene from Good Will Hunting.

In addition to its mind-blowing randomness, Armageddon is also a wholly unoriginal movie. And this is not just because a better asteroid-toward-earth movie, Deep Impact, came out the same year.³ Armageddon recycles a plot from every heist/war movie ever. Close your eyes for a second and imagine the movie The Sandlot. Now open them. I realize there are some Armageddon-y plot holes in the whole reading-with-eyes-closed direction, but I’m just getting into the spirit of the film. Now think of Armageddon while remembering the Sandlot. IT'S THE SAME F'ING MOVIE. In the Sandlot, a rag tag group of kids use cunning and high tech gadgets to place themselves at great risk to prevent what they, as kids, believe to be the apocalypse (the signed ball being eaten). In Armageddon, a rag tag group of men use cunning and high tech gadgets to place themselves at great risk to prevent an actual apocalypse. In the end of the Sandlot, the older leader (Benny “The Jet” Rodriguez) risks his life to save his protégé. In Armageddon, the same fucking thing happens! Armageddon is The Sandlot, with higher stakes and less heart.⁴

 Armageddon also misused its resources. I understand that the special effects are the true stars of the movie, but the best actors in this film are given very little to do. Bruce Willis plays Bruce Willis, Ben Affleck plays Ben Affleck⁵, and Billy Bob Thornton plays the role of a generic bureaucrat. But Steve Buscemi is basically told to play an amped-up version of Steve Buscemi, and Owen Wilson, arguably the film’s most dynamic actor, is barely in the movie. Wilson and Buscemi would be a pretty good leading duo in a comedy these days (undoubtedly about a humorous, brooding Texan and his high-strung, eccentric friend). Here, Buscemi is rightly used as the comic relief (though really, he's cast once more as the most eccentric person of a bunch of eccentric people)⁶, and Wilson has only a few lines before he dies. I think. I dozed off and when I woke up he was no longer in the movie. Really a phenomenal use of Owen Wilson here, by the way. I’m sure he only got the role in the first place because Sir Lawrence Olivier turned it down. And Michael Clarke Duncan appears as well, playing against type as a large, sensitive, black man. He is actually one of only two people of color in the entire film, but he does share with the entire cast the propensity to overact. The faces made in this movie are amazing. People are sad. People are mad. Brows are furrowed. Frowns are frowned. Armageddon could have accurately been entitled White Men Making Faces. There’s also a crazy Russian guy, because, well, how could there not be?

In the end, Armageddon will be remembered for its special effects, its obnoxiously-overplayed soundtrack, and its exploration of the sexual possibilities of animal crackers. But it should also be remembered as a film that challenged us – in a bad way. Enjoyment of this film on any level requires a suspension of disbelief. So does Spiderman, or for that matter, Congress. But the ridiculousness of this movie lies not primarily in its elaborate plot or its flashy effects, but in its unoriginality and the absurdity of its execution. It not only insults our intelligence, but also challenges our willingness to sit idly by while our intelligence is being insulted. It is a fun movie, no doubt, a blockbuster meant as an escape from our troubles.⁷ But it is also, for lack of a better word, SHIT. Any honest discourse about this film must acknowledge this truth.

^Endnotes:

^{1.          Acceptable only in a pre-Deepwater Horizon world}

^{2.          Kinda puts Obama-care in perspective}

^{3.          Rather than relying on special effects, Deep Impact explores the metaphorical deep impact (not very subtle, but whatever) of the apocalypse on a group of individuals. Also, Morgan Freeman is the President! And while we're on the topic, Armageddon and Deep Impact being released simultaneously would be like Lord of the Rings coming out alongside a movie called God of the Necklaces. It's pretty ridiculous.} 

^{4.          To complete the analogy, Steve Buscemi is Squints, Owen Wilson is Bertram because he just disappears, Max is Hamilton Porter, and James Earl Jones is awesome.}

^{5.          Acceptable only in a pre-Gigli world}

^{6.          See also Con Air, Fargo, Reservoir Dogs, Airheads, the Wedding Singer, Big Daddy, Mr. Deeds, Big Fish}

^{7.          Because our troubles are surely worse than an asteroid heading toward earth, a strangely murderous President, and Harry “Challah at Me” Stamper’s shooting spree.}

 . . . Obviously joking. This post is about puppies! And not just any puppies--PUPPY BOWL PUPPIES! The starting lineup for Puppy Bowl VII was announced today via adorable slideshow. I have taken the liberty of doing some scouting/analysis of the 2011 recruits; below are some preliminary awards/ recognition I have seen fit to bestow on a few of the pups. 

Dog That Is Most Worried About the Responsibilities Associated with Being in a Puppy Bowl

Booda

Don't worry, Booda. I've been watching Puppy Bowls for a long time, and I am pleased to verify that you have what it takes to succeed in this event.

Oh My God, Look at Those Ears-iest

Jack

I was seriously searching the page for an "Add to Cart" button when I saw this one.

Oh My God, But Look at THOSE Ears-iest

Max

And look at his fuzzy, fuzzy fur!

Most Likely to Have Me Write Fanfic About Their Adventures Together

 Big Red and

Little Red

BRB, writing Big Red and Little Red: The Post-Puppy Bowl Years.

Hahahahahaha

Charlie

Choosing to believe that this little scruffster was named after Charlie from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.

Obvious Personal Favorite

Calvin

Calvin has the highest Pancake Resemblance Rating, so he is ca-learly my fave. Yay for terrier mixes!

There are plenty more puppehs in the full lineup, so obvi you are required to go check them all out and tell me your fave. Like, now.

It's time for another installment of Let's Read an Article Together. Today's article comes from Newslite, a British site whose tagline is "it barely qualifies as news." I beg to disagree, because this is one of the most important stories I have read in 2010.

The article begins below. As with the first installment of this feature, my comments are in blue italics.

Abandoned orang-utan goes on first-class cruise

An abandoned baby orang-utan has made his way to new home -- by travelling as a first class passenger on cruise ferry. 

WTF. Is this how British people spell 'orangutan?' And what is a 'cruise ferry?' Does that just mean cruise sh---OMG, A PICTURE OF A BABY ORANGUTAN HOLDING A BOTTLE SITTING ON A BOAT, OMG OMG OMG

No, British website photo captioner, I have not. Also, "Credit: Monkey World" is the only photo credit I hope to ever see ever again in any story about anything.

11-month-old Silvestre was rejected by his mother at Santillana Zoo in Spain and as a result was being taken to Monkey World sanctuary in Dorset.

Silvestre's mother is awful and I hope she has terrible karma and never gets to go anywhere cool like Monkey World, or have any Disney movies made about her life, unless she is the villain and Silvestre is the star and I could go see it in a theatRE, which is how I am spelling it in case Sylvestre is reading.

But because he had to be kept close to his keeper, special permission was given from the British authorities for him to travel on board a ferry.

Glad the British authorities are keeping busy these days.

As a result, Silvestre had his own four-bed cabin for the journeyand spent most of the time swinging from the ladders and bunks.

Sorry, Emily, but this is what we should have done on our cruise.

With that sort of behaviour he should fit in perfectly on a EasyCruise holiday.

There will never be another picture as good as this picture.

A spokesperson for Monkey World (please let that be my job title some day, please let that be my job title someday) said: "Now at Monkey World, Silvestre is meeting his new adopted family. His new family are all Bornean orang-utans (Pongo pygmaeus), a different species to him, but their behaviour is very similar. 

I'm sure Sylvestre noticed.

"Silvestre will grow up with his adopted family at Monkey World learning all the skills and behaviour that he will need to mature into a well adjusted adult male Sumatran orang-utan."

This paragraph is what TV pilots are made of.

Andrea González of Santillana Zoo added, “Santillana Zoo Foundation is involved in the conservation of Sumatran orang-utans and our first goal is the welfare of all our animals, especially Silvestre. He spent his firsts 11 months of life being cared for by our staff and seeing his two sisters, Victoria and Juliana, from time to time. From now on he will live with his new family at Monkey World, which will help him to develop a natural behaviour and a social life as an orang-utan.”

What? We are just ending this there? Does he ever get to see Victoria and Juliana again? On holidays, maybe? Can we rescue them from that awful mother and send them on cruises and make sure everyone has a happy end and--OMG, PICTURE OF A BABY ORANGUTAN IN A DIAPER, WHAT WAS I SAYING? NEVER MIND, IT DOESN'T MATTER.

Guys, Home Alone is 20 years old. Let's celebrate the only way we know how: with a list of completely random shit. (This is clearly my preferred format for celebrating fine movies; recall this post about King Ralph.)

1. Here is Roger Ebert's review of the movie from November 16, 1990. It's kind of funny, because he mostly calls it implausible and chides John Hughes' screenplay for being unrealistic. For example, he says: "If Home Alone had limited itself to the things that might possibly happen to a forgotten 8-year-old, I think I would have liked it more." What? How could that have possibly made for a good movie? A real kid would have cried for like 25 minutes and then called the police or a trusted friend. Kid Cries and Gets Help Alone would have been the actual worst movie ever.

2. This list of 12 Things You Probably Didn't Know About Home Alone is great. Key facts about everything from Buzz's girlfriend to the evil furnace can be found.

3. I keep forgetting about my lifetime goal of ordering a bunch of yellow satin jackets and going to a Halloween/costume party with a group of people dressed as John Candy's polka band.* Can I trust all of you to help me remember this?

Wanted: this jacket

4. I didn't find out until too late about this Twitter reenactment of Home Alone, which happened yesterday. However, it is still worth your while to go back through it and see awesome tweets like this:

*In case you're trying to remember the name of the band right now, it's the Kenosha Kickers.

It can be hard for busy Americans to stay up on news and current events. I know this because I am not busy at all, and yet sometimes I still forget to read the news because I am busy stacking mini Butterfingers into a perfect pyramid while humming The Cardigans' "Love Fool" as I wait for my dinnertime Pop Tarts to heat up. So anyway, here's a new feature called "Let's Read an Article Together." In this feature, you and I will read an important news article together, and then analyze it. (I mean really, I'm just doing those things alone, but "I Read an Article Together" makes absolutely no sense as a title for a feature.)

So . . . let's read an article together! Today's selection is called "'Twilight' model seeks glory," and it is from the New York Post. It is about the woman whose hands are on the cover art for Twilight. Here is her picture. You will note that she is wearing a necklace with a picture of her hands on it.

The article is pasted below, and our (my) analysis is in blue italics.

"Twilight" Model Seeks Glory

By JOSEPH GOLDSTEIN

Give her a hand -- please!

OK, we knew this would have hand jokes. That's one.

Kimbra Hickey wants some recognition for her pinky-size role in the "Twilight" phenomenon. Hers are the slender, ghostly hands cupping a red apple on the now-famous cover of the first hit book by Stephenie Meyer. But Hickey's lack of fame has her cracking her knuckles in frustration.

Oh, God. Three more sentences, two more hand jokes.

"It was major exposure for my hands," said the petite, 40-year-old model. "But nobody knew who I was."

Ah, the classic "my hands are famous, but the rest of me is not" dilemma!

So Hickey now stops anyone she sees reading the book to inform them of her contribution.

Wait. Really?

"I see people reading it on the subway, and I say, 'Those are my hands! I'm a hand model!' " she explained. "I'm sure they think I'm crazy -- a crazy lady on the subway."

They think you are crazy because you ARE crazy.

The good-natured Hickey sometimes hangs out near the cash register at the Barnes & Noble near her Greenwich Village apartment to spread the word. Surprised customers sometimes ask her for her autograph or to trace the outline of her hand on the book jacket.

Hahahaha. Oh, wow. This might actually be the best/most despeate thing anyone has ever done to get attention.

She even carries around a Gala apple in her purse at times so she can recreate the pose for people.

Ah. I see I spoke too soon.

"It was too big of a deal just to let it be," she said, although she admitted that she has become "a little goofy" about the whole thing. Hickey is a massage therapist who works a few days each month as a "parts models." It's her size-6 feet -- not her hands -- that land her most of her modeling gigs. Her tootsies have graced a Times Square billboard and the cover of magazines, she said. "I never see myself as having perfect hands," she explained. "I guess I'm just lucky that they photograph well."

For what it's worth, this lady seems like exactly the kind of person who sees herself as having perfect hands.

Hickey's agent, Danielle Korwin, said her hands are in demand because they are "veinless" -- not the sort of hands a vampire would like.

Finally! A more ridiculous job than hand model: hand model AGENT.

The 2004 photo shoot for the "Twilight" book cover paid $300 -- the industry standard for two hours of work. Hickey had to file her nails extra short so her tiny hands didn't look like an adult's.

Hm. Slightly creepy. Moving on.

Lately, she's been going to "Twilight" fan conventions -- she's at one this weekend in Portland, Ore. -- where she sells apple-scented hand lotion.

Actually, I hear that if you want your hands to smell like apples, it's more effective to just carry a Gala apple around all day.

So far, she knows of four "Twihards" -- as the vampire-romance fans are called -- who've gotten tattoos of her hands. Her goal is to break into acting.

Of course it is.

She's trying to contact the casting director for the fourth installment in the "Twilight" series.

Of course she is.

"If I could get a little background part, it would be fantastic," she said -- "even if they only wanted my hands in it."

Of course they will.